I'm telling Dad!

It’s often said that no matter how old you get, you’ll always be your parent’s child. This has never been more true than right now. Growing up there was no talk or even chance of a motorcycle. I loved bikes as most boys do. There’s something about it. Even last night the kids in my neighborhood were out enjoying the early days of summer. I heard one of them yell… “I’m on a motorcycle!” It made me smile as I remember those days in very cloudy and faded images in my forty two year old brain. One thing I clearly remember is the day my Dad took the training wheels of my first real two wheeler. I just rode away.

It’s been three weeks now since I brought the V-Strom home. Three weeks of wondering how I’d ever tell my father what I’d done. Three weeks of remembering how we as kids were not allowed to consider such things…purely out of concern for our safety. Even though I’m apparently an adult, I’m still really nervous about Dad’s reaction to this latest acquisition. I choose to email the news rather than call. I am much more concise in written form than spoken. You can proof read and email…. you can’t rewind a conversation and replace words.

I’ve lobbed it over the fence and now I wait for the reply. Admittedly, I’m pretty nervous. Feels like twelve again.